The life and times of Elizabeta Hedervary
by Become-Meguca
Summary: Everyone goes through a 'Teen Angst' period in High School. We deal with zits, prom, and the yearning call of becoming popular. In Elizabeta's case, she has to deal with the fact she accidentally gave the most popular girl in school a mug of nice 'fresh' drain cleaner and killed her. But with her new friend, the body count for dead popular kids seem to be rising more and more.
1. Beautiful

**Oh man, it's been ages since I've written something regarding Hetalia. And what an odd combination, considering this fic is basically a Heathers styled AU. If you haven't watched the Heathers movie or Musical, I HIGHLY recommend you do. A few warnings first! Considering the main source of inspiration is the Heathers, there will be lot's of triggering content ranging from Bulimia and Suicide! And of course, character death. Once again, I recommend you check in with the movie so you know what you're in store for. The characters also seem a bit OOC? Maybe to me because I'm the writer...but also the year this fic takes place in. Things were...a lot more edgy back then, to say the least.**

 **And Finally..**

 **Belgium = Bella Maes**

 **Seychelles = Michelle Mancham**

 **Romania = Vladimir Cantacuzino**

 **Hope you enjoy this fic!**

 _ **September 1st, 1989.**_

 _Dear Diary._

 _I believe I'm a good person! You know, I believe there's good in everyone! But, here we are. First day of senior year!_

Someone ran into her in the hallway as she was writing, and she immediately looked up to apologize. The student was already halfway down the hall, darting around the pens that flew from Elizabeta's hands and shoving their way through. She knelt down to gather her materials.

 _And, uh, I look around at these kids I've known all my life and I ask myself, "What happened?"_

"Freak!" Screamed a girl in a red tube top and even redder lipstick. Her face was flushed in anger, and if her gaze was telling at all, she wanted to kill the person the word was meant for. Turns out the recipient was the guy who had shoved Elizabeta out of the way. Sadiq, was that his name? "Bitch!" He shouted back, trying to one-up her volume-wise.

Oh, how fun. Elizabeta was just in time to witness the barrage of insults being flung across the hall. Maybe a break-up? What a day to ring in the school year.

The girl's face was nearly matching her lip color now. She started jumping up and down frantically, names tumbling mindlessly from her mouth. "Burnout!" She sputtered. "Bug-eyes! Poser!" She then stormed out of view. That can't be too healthy on such high pumps.

"Slut!" The first guy yelled back, despite his conversational partner (and now possibly ex) leaving.

 _We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased._

Someone came bumbling down the hall, being chased by a student much larger than them.

"Loser! Shortbus!"

Elizabeta shook her head dejectedly.

 _Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste._

Everything she wrote seemed so faux-poetic. She didn't like that most of her writing rhymed but her therapist told her this was supposed to help her? She couldn't help how sing-songy her writing was.

 _Then we got bigger. That was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome –_

Another history allusion. Barf. Her only worst habit than writing too sing-song-like and making too many history references out of context was writing while walking down the hall.

"Oof!" said the person she nearly ran over.

"Sorry!"

 _Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: this is the Thunderdome._

 _Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon._

Elizabeta's thoughts flickered to her moments over the summer she didn't spend writing or talking with her parents. She mostly cried in her room alone, friends she had from years before all abandoned. She'd think about dying, think about it so much it felt more like a distant memory rather than a dreary fantasy.

 _College will be paradise if I'm not dead by June!_

She slumps into a corner in the hallway, kneels down, and takes a deep breath. In, hold, and out. In, hold, out. The writing resumes.

 _But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful..._

Suddenly, a girl in a yellow shirt trips in front on her feet. She has large, nearly comically, thick framed glasses that fly off her face as she falls. She shoots up to help her up, handing her the glasses.

"Just not today." Elizabeta mumbles to herself. "Hey, are you okay?" The girl snatches the glasses and puts them back on.

"Get away, nerd!" She retorts, leaving her presence as soon as possible. She obliges, remembering how she was in freshman year, not wanting to be seen with the dorks of the school either. Maybe she should just wait till she's home to write more in her coping journal. Diary. Whatever.

Walking down the hall to her class is difficult. The constant stimulation caused by commotion around the school is enough to halt traffic, and she barely remembers any room that isn't the cafeteria. As she walks she hears a number of insults being hurled around.

Even with her full attention on walking now, she somehow still runs into Vladimir, who utters a rude "Watch it!"

Elizabeta must've been glaring really hard at him, because his next course of action was to swat her journal and pens to the ground again. At this point, Elizabeta was tired of crouching down to get things, so she had a few choice words for Mr. Cantacuzino.

"Ah, Vladimir Cantacuzino. Third year as linebacker, eighth year of smacking stuff out of my hand, and being a huge dick."

"What did you say to me, skank?" He snarled.

"Remember that time you almost pissed yourself in class? Man, last I checked, the rest of us learned to control our bowels years ago. You should probably catch up." Elizabeta spat, not missing a beat.

"Yet he still chose my novel over yours for the Young Adult Writer's league, second year in a row!" Vladimir laughed and walked off triumphantly.

Now, for any normal person, someone mentioning that you almost publicly pissed yourself in class is much more mortifying than being snubbed from some essay contest. But this is not a normal person. This is Elizabeta Hedervary, and Vladimir knew exactly how to make her skin crawl. Every part of her wanted to turn around and beat Vlad's smug face in, but she couldn't. Not today. It's the first day back. She reminded herself constantly of her mantra..

 _But I know, I know, I know...Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, I pray for a better way. We were kind before; we can be kind once more. We can be beautiful…_

A tap ripped her from inside of her own head.

"Agh! Oh! Hey, Roderich."

"Hello, Elizabeta."

The two gather Elizabeta's stuff off the ground, and she can't help smile at the other. Roderich was her best friend since diapers.

"Welcome back, Elizabeta. I have finally finished knitting the matching sweaters you have requested. I even added your name."

"...Roderich, this says Elizaveta."

"Indeed."

"...Roderich, my name is Elizabeta."

"Oh." An awkward beat. "Well, I'll simply cross out the V and add a B. Movie night is still up, correct?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail."

"I passed by the Blockbuster's earlier and rented Dead Poets Society. "

"Uh, again? Don't you have it memorized by now?"

"Elizabeta, one cannot grow tired of watching a masterpiece." Roderich replied, adjusting his glasses.

"Roderich Edelstein! **NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERD**!" Another student dressed in a similar dress to Vlad - a varsity letterman's jacket - ran up behind Roderich and yelled, startling him, causing him to drop her goddamn motherfucking journal again. Jesus Fucking Christ. Vladimir stepped between them.

"Alfred F. Jones, smartest guy on the football team." She said the latter part with the most sarcastic tone she could muster. "Pick that up."

"I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me ?"

"Yes I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on Roderich. You're a high school has been waiting to happen, a disgrace. You bring shame to the name of Gakuen High and the entire country, and I'll never understand how you got into the Football team when you don't even show up to practice!"

"...You have a zit. Riiiiight there." He flicked Elizaveta's forehead. Some kids loitering about laughed along, obviously glossing over anything Elizabeta just said.

She was furious, just livid. The first day of her senior year was already nearly ruined, she couldn't even have a nice moment with Roderich without it being absolutely shattered by the negative aura the shitpot they called Gakuen seemed to radiate.

The worst part about it is that no one here is benefiting from it. They could easily all just stop being assholes, maybe someone would crack a goddamn smile for once in their life! But no, they were teenagers, horny ticking time bombs full of spite and useless factoids they won't need beyond 12th grade, so of course they had to perpetuate the toxic environment. It was only normal, whatever the fuck that meant. No one's benefiting from it, yet it continues.

Oh, but she forgot the one exception. Three, really.

The three most popular girls in school. They float above it all. They entered the school as a monolith, each wearing an attire of their determined color. Oh, the aura they emitted was just as vile as the rest of the students, but there was something so alluring about every step they took, Elizabeta and the others just couldn't look away!

They walked past her in a rush, synchronized strut, barely acknowledging the boys and girls (and another varsity athlete, Feliks, who identified as neither - something like Prince, maybe?) that pinned for them to even look their way.

She hated everything they stood for, but oh, how she wanted to be part of them so badly.

"Who are they?" Roderich whispers. She had forgotten he was there, honestly.

"Oh, Roderich, you should pay attention." She pointed to the shortest member, a girl with long brown hair tied to two twin tails, a deep yellow skirt, and a pastel yellow button-down cardigan. "That's Michelle Mancham. Class vice president. Her dad's loaded - he sells engagement rings."

"Next to her, in the outfit like hers but green? That's Bella Maes. She runs the school paper, barely has a writer's voice. No discernible personality, no opinions on anything, really, but I hear her brother is a huuuuuuge pothead."

"...I see...how...charming." Roderich mumbles.

Elizaveta gestures to the last of the 'Golden Trio. "And Natalia Arlovskaya." Something flares in her voice when she says it, but she punctuates the name with a wistful sigh. Natalia is wearing a loud red school-girl esque cardigan, a white blouse underneath. She has a red and purple plaid skirt on, white socks below this, and the disgustingly attention-grabbing attire is completed with her signature accessory - a bright, red bow. "The Almighty."

"Yes? What about her?"

"She's a mythic bitch."

They're solid Teflon. Never bothered, questioned, picked on, or harassed.

"I would give anything to be like that." Elizaveta sighs.

The bell rings, signaling the start of homeroom.

Oddly enough, Elizabeta was blessed enough to be in the presence of the Golden Trio twice that day. She really had to pee during class so she had excused herself (something Vlad should learn) and went to the girl's bathroom. As she was exciting her stall, she heard the telltale sound of heaving and vomit splashing into the toilet next to her. She was about to dart out immediately, but she then heard the exchange in the extra large stall.

"Grow up, Bella, Bulimia's so '87." The accent gave it away, definitely Natalia.

"It's not Bulimia…" She was bad at lying. "I just get...nervous...sometimes."

"Maybe you should see a doctor, Bella." Michelle offers.

"Yeah, Michelle." Elizabeta can hear the smile in her voice. "Maybe I should."

A head peeps into the bathroom, probably stirred by the loud tone Natalia used while talking to her friends. It's Mrs. Kirkland. Natalia and Michelle exit the stall, Bella still hovering over the toilet inside.

"Ah, Arlovskaya and Mancham." Kirkland says, knowingly.

Bella pukes.

"...And Maes. Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting. You're all late for class."

Elizabeta gets the best idea ever.

"Bella wasn't feeling well. We're helping her!"

"Not without a hall pass, you're not. Week's detention."

"Actually, Mrs. Kirkland!" Elizabeta quickly steps out, holding a pink slip of paper. "..We're all out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee."

Mrs. Kirkland frowns, her thick eyebrows furrowing as she read the paper handed over to her. "You're all listed...and that is Bonnefoy's signature. Hurry up and get where you're going." And with that, satisfied by Elizabeta's trickery, she leaves the bathroom.

"This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?"

The leader of the Golden Trio - she's addressing her. HER.

"Eli...zabeta. Elizabeta Hedervary.." She stutters out, all but saluting. "I crave a boon."

"What boon?"

"Let me sit at your table at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think you guys tolerate me, they'll leave me alone... " Natalia's giggle was irritating and echoed through the restroom. The other two join in, Bella now standing at both of their sides.

"Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes." Elizabeta felt the need to add.

"How about prescriptions?"

"Shut up, Bella."

"Sorry, Natalia."

Natalia closes the gap between her and Elizabeta, taking her hair into her grip. Elizabeta can barely breathe. Is her face red? Oh god, her face was reddening a bit! Natalia was really pretty up close. Wait, what? Where did that come from-

"For a nobody, you do have good bone structure." Natalia spoke up, interrupting Elizabeta's internal sexuality debate. "And your hair...is actually quite lovely."

"And a symmetrical face! If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important." Michelle says, soft tone contrasting with the fucked up morbid thing she had just said.

"Of course," Bella puts her hands to her hips. "You could stand to lose a few pounds."

The Golden Trio spend their entire class period skipping whatever class they're supposed to be at, combing Elizabeta's hair out of it's usual fixture, letting it fall to the sides of her face, adding sheen to it and volumizing it. When they leave again, it's already halfway through the day, so the three drag their victim to the mall and buy her a new wardrobe.

The same dreary faces are at lunch today, and Roderich has joined the mob. With no Elizabeta to accompany him at their usual table, he has a neutral visage expression. He nearly drops his food when he sees his friend across the cafeteria, entering the room alongside the Golden Trio.

Elizabeta is grinning the hardest out of the bunch, now dressed in a outfit similar to Natalia's. Not nearly as loud, of course, that would be impossible, but still flamboyant enough to draw some stares. Her skirt is plain deep, dark blue, matching her cardigan and blue thigh highs. Holding her hand was none other then Natalia Arlovskaya. Bella sneers at the gesture, surely thinking it's too soon, Michelle just smiles weakly, seeming to avoid eye contact with either of them. But who cares. Elizabeta Hedervary had made it.

 _And ya know,_

 _ya know, ya know_

 _life can be beautiful._

 _You hope, you dream, you pray,_

 _and you get your way!_

 _Ask me how it feels_

 _looking like hell on wheels…_

Her eyes meet with an eye-catching boy also sitting alone. He was dressed in mostly dark colors, a black trench coat just to really hit home the "mysterious drifter" aesthetic. The boy blinks his reddish-brownish eyes, and he idly pushes a bit of his white hair back. His eyes dip to Elizabeta's skirt and back up to her eyes. And he winks.

He fucking winks .

 _My God, it's beautiful!_

 _And when you're beautiful..._

 _It's a beautiful frickin' day!_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It's been three weeks since I became friends with the Golden Trio Actually, friends isn't exactly the right word. It's more like the Golden Trio are people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit. Actually, it's a lot like politics._

The bell rings, and Elizabeta shuffles to put her journal in her book bag. Her free period was over, and now it was time for lunch, to clock-in and start her shift at hanging with the Golden Trio.

"Hey, Elizabeta!"

"Hey!" Elizabeta pulls an approaching Roderich in for a warm hug. He hugs back, but frailly.

"You really do look beautiful these days."

Elizabeta blushed and dragged a hand through her hair, just getting used to not bundling the strands into a messy ponytail. She was so thankful for Roderich. He knew exactly what to say at the exact right moment. Any time she wasn't in the company of her new clique, she felt ridiculous. Sure, Gakuen students still fell at her feet, but she still felt terrible self-conscious.

" _Another skirt, Natalia? Are you sure?" She had asked the group's leader. Natalia was barely listening, as she already purchased ten other skirts for Elizabeta, all in varying shades of blue._

 _"I'm letting you match with me, be my bestie, my plus one, and you have a problem with that?" She answered back, not too rudely. Elizabeta couldn't help the small smile that started to form on her face. Natalia's generosity combined with Bella's glare of envy and Michelle's nervous coughing at the word bestie, oh, she could just die._

But that was three weeks ago, and this was now. The Golden Trio weren't here right this second, and she didn't want to get glared at too hard for being so flashy.

"Yeah, well." She says, embarrassed, addressing her true bestie. "It's still the same me, underneath."

He puts a hand on her shoulder. It's firm, concerningly uncharacteristically firm. She focuses on his face more so, it's just as firm and unwavering. "...Are you sure?"

"...?" What's he sad about-OH. She nervously laughed, raising both her hands. "Crap! I'm sorry I flaked on movie night last week. I just have a lot going on."

"..I understand that." He dropped his hand. "You're with the Golden Trio now." He says this with forced, obviously faux enthusiasm. "That's exciting."

"It's whatever. We'll hang soon, I promise." She lifts his hand again and curls her pinky with his. "I pinky promise!"

There's the small genuine smile she loves. "...Very well."

Bella Maes walks up to them, stiff, as if the stick up her ass has quadrupled in mass. "Elizabeta, Natalia wants you to see her at the table. Now."

"How very." Elizabeta rolls her eyes, waves goodbye to Roderich, and proceeds to follow Bella to the table.

"Elizabeta, my secretary in the flesh," Natalia says with an unusually sultry tone. "I need you to write a letter in Vladimir's handwriting." Her manicured finger points to a table a few yards away. Vlad is sitting there with Alfred, and they're chomping away at their respective lunches. Why did Natalia have to pick on them?

She hesitated, but this was her job. She was on the clock, and she couldn't say no to this.

Natalia handed Elizabeta a paper and pen. "You'll need something to write on...Bella, bend over."

There was a perfectly good table right there in everyone's line of sight, yet Bella's still readily bent over at Natalia's whim. Natalia smirked at this, and silently commanded Elizabeta to write using her back as a surface. She didn't think too much into the subtext, just went about her job.

"Write as I say." Natalia cleared her throat. "Hey, it's been awhile. I've been watching you and thinking about us back in the good ol' days. I hope you can come to my homecoming party this weekend. Miss you. Vlad."

Elizabeta's face twisted more and more with each more affectionate word, but didn't question it until she was done. Bella and Michelle couldn't stop snickering. "What's this for, anyway?"

"I just found out that Vlad used to hang out with Roderich Edelame." Natalia could barely keep composure as she snatched the forged note.

"..." Elizabeta blinked. But...that was in Middle School? Are they that petty enough to start drama..?

"Heh~" Natalia smirks. She turns to face the two most hated people on Gakuen's campus. That's a bit biased on Elizabeta's part, but he couldn't be that off. They're whispering to each other, sort of.

"Bro, but how hot would it be to be in a Elizabeta, Natalia sandwich?"

"Punch it in, brooo...!" They fist bump.

"VLAAAAAAAAD!" Natalia all but shouts. He and Alfred are soon zipping to her side. She hands the note to Vladimir. "Be a sweetie and deliver this to Roderich. Say it's from someone special."

"What? No!"

"Since when do you talk to that walking disaster?" Vlad starts to open the note, but Natalia stops him.

"Ah ah ah," She says, tantalizingly. "He was asking me for some gay porn material. I had to browse through all sorts books and magazines-" At that, Elizabeta blinks. Do..other people not find gay porn hot?

"Ew, gross!" Vlad hands the note to Elizabeta as if it's infected. Oh. Guess not. She takes it and slowly begins to tear it up.

"What are you doing, Elizabeta?"

"...Please don't do this.. n-not to Roderich, he- "

"Why not? Think about it! It'll give him masturbation material for weeks!" Bella quipped.

"Shut up, Bella."

"Sorry, Natalia."

"Natalia, Roderich's really sensitive about the whole Vlad thing and -"

"Are we going to have a problem?" Natalia snapped. Every command she fired Elizabeta's way this month had been somewhat laced with playful charm. But her tone was unmistakably angry now, totally demanding. It put Elizabeta on edge, made her heart skip a beat.

"You've got a bone to pick?" She continued. "You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?" With the last syllable emphasized, she pushes Bella and Michelle out of her space and pulls Elizabeta close by the collar of her cardigan. Their faces are close enough for whisper-threats now.

"I'd normally slap your face off and everyone here could watch," She grits out.

Elizabeta's breath hitches. She feels a bit dizzy. Something about the pure noxious feel of Natalia's being attracts her, makes her gravitate to her words, solidifies her admiration further. This was the power of the Golden Trio she was feeling, wickedly alluring, maddeningly revoltingly awfully alluring - Natalia is in her face. They're breathing in the same air, noses nearly touching. She can barely concentrate on the threats flying out of Natalia's mouth anymore, but she remembers there being something about slapping.

She ponders on the idea. In some context far from this one, she'd probably be okay with Natalia slapping her.

Focus, focus, focus. She's yelling right now. She's angry.

"...listen up, biotch!" Natalia lets her cardigan go, hops up on the table, and crosses her legs. Bella and Michelle nearly break their necks rushing to her side, making it clear that they're available for her every little need. Vlad and Alfred. look on in awe. Elizabeta feels her legs dragging her closer to Natalia, now being looked down upon like a lowly peasant would be under the gaze of an uncaring god.

Natalia throws the most terrifying of hissy fits, Elizabeta gathers quickly. She starts listing off things the Golden Trio do and what she could do with them if she just loosened up.

She's zoning out again though. Elizabeta doesn't need the Golden Trio, she wants to be with them. No, really. She does, wholeheartedly. She doesn't agree with a lot of the things they do, of course, but she can't deny that she likes all the attention and perks she's gotten lately from hanging around them. Sure, she wants people to leave her alone, but she can fight. She's had plenty of practice, she doesn't need fashionable, snooty bodyguards.

Wait, where's Bella?

She was there just a second ago! But suddenly she was nowhere to be found.

"Keep on testing me, Elizabeta…" Natalia adjusts her red bow.

"You'll end up like her!" Michelle points past their area of the cafeteria towards the corner.

Roderich's corner.

Bella has the note.

Now Roderich has the note.

Shit, shit, shit!

After a few minutes of staring his way, Elizabeta accepts defeat and slumps her shoulders. Damn sneaky drama-starting fuckwads. She couldn't believe they did this to someone like Roderich. The nerve.

He's coming this way.

"Elizabeta!" His usual soft smile is a large grin, happier than normal. Shit.

"Vlad invited me to his homecoming party! It has been years since I've last spoken with- "

"-Perhaps we can rekindle our friendship with him and- "

Elizabeta didn't have the heart to crush his heart, not like this. She looks up at Natalia for some sort of approval, and she nods with her eyes closed. Somehow, she knew exactly what Natalia wanted her to do.

"...Color me stoked, Roddy."

"..."

Roderich gave one more warm smile before walking away. Shit. What did she just do? Was that a lie? Lying's more than the absence of truth, right? Right?

Rationalizing would have to wait. Bella turned Elizabeta back towards Natalia.

"So what Natalia is saying is -"

"SHUT UP BELLA, JESUS FUCK!" Natalia screeches. Bella stumbles at the sudden sound, but dutifully (somewhat wounded morale-wise) goes back to her spot near Natalia.

Natalia breathes deeply and addresses Elizabeta directly again. "Look, this is what the fuck we do. Either shut up and do it or shut up and leave. This is your only time I'm gonna give you to be able to turn back. Choose wisely, lame-ass, 'cause this candy store is closing up soon."

Natalia was in her face again. How could she say no to this?

She voices her allegiance and the Golden Trio cheer. Natalia presses a kiss into Elizabeta's cheek and she gasps, cupping a hand over the kiss mark to preserve it.

"Lovely. See you tomorrow."

The bell rings. They're gone, the magic ripped right out of the dreary cafeteria with them.

Elizabeta's chest is tight with confusion and anger and confusion and happiness and jesus fuck Natalia "Let's Go Tear Up Somebody's Lawn" Arlovskaya kissed her. Fuck.

"You shouldn't have bowed down to the swatch dogs and the diet coke heads. They're going to crush that guy."

Elizabeta dropped her hand protecting the kiss mark and swiveled to face the voice. "I'm sorry, what?"

It was the boy, the boy she saw a few weeks back, the one who sits alone.

He had silvery white hair, hair that Elizabeta wanted to bury her hands into. With his pale complexion and judging red eyes piercing into Elizabeta's mind, he certainly resettled the bar Elizabeta had set for boys at Gakuen.

Boys at Gakuen were not this cute, nor this intimidating. Well, not simultaneously, anyway.

"You've clearly got a soul, dollface-" he said, matter-of-factly, as if he were reading the shit off of a clipboard. "You just need to work hard on keeping it clean, ja? _Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her._ German saying. A corrupted leader will effect her workers as well. Keep that in mind, babe."

Take the reaction Elizabeta had to Natalia's rage, multiple it by ten, hook it on cocaine and take it on a shopping spree, and you still couldn't capture the pure attraction she felt with this guy around.

The guy turned to go, and Elizabeta walked after him.

"Um, hello. Hi. You can't just quote something ominous like that in German and then just leave. I didn't catch your name."

The boy stopped and glared at Elizabeta with a dumbfounded look. "I didn't throw it."

"... "

Holy shit. He's really cute.


	2. Fight for me

Elizabeta sees the boy a lot sooner than she expected, thank the good Lord above. Quite a sight indeed.

She's not sure if she could forget his face if she tried, honestly. Between planning outfits and feigning innocence with her parents, she couldn't stop thinking about him. What he said about not being a follower, the stone-cold stare he gave Natalia, he had it all written down.

He's writing again the next time she sees the kid. The "stop being a follower" kid. The "wow, that was pretty shitty of you," kid. The "Not only am I well read, I have the voice and face of sex god and I'm here to shun you," kid.

Ew. Cross out last part. Gross, Eli, what are you, 13?

Elizabeta keeps the notebook near herself at all times, of course, but she became extra protective of it ever since Mystery Boy became a hot topic. She didn't need some nerd knowing how much she appreciated the curvature of the boy's nose or his shady-drug-dealer style. Or worse. What if Natalia got to it?

Wait, why the fuck does she care what Natalia thinks?

He's sitting at a table during lunch hour again.

Taking a deep breath, Eli smiles a small, coy smile at the boy and barely waves. The boy waves back, and gestures for Elizabeta to join him to eat. The boy gives her the most genuine grin.

Goodness. Elizabeta needs a name, stat.

She looks around the cafeteria as if she's a deer about to cross a busy highway. No Natalia, Bella, or Michelle in sight. She's safe, for now. She could spare a few seconds and hang out with her mystery guy.

"Hey, you." He says, in the most charming voice.

"Hey, yourself." Elizabeta strains her voice so it wouldn't squeak.

"So, you took my advice? Got rid of those harpies?" Mystery Boy asks.

"Uh, working on it. It's not easy to just, you know, erase friendships like that." Elizabeta thinks back to Natalia's kiss, the heat she felt. She doesn't want to admit it to her strange new friend but she doesn't want to give that up for the world.

"Friendships? Listen: Abyssus abyssum invocat. Do you know what that means?"

"...No."

"It means the abyss, or Hell, invokes the abyss. No good is going to come from you hanging around those girls, nor their little cronies."

"Hey!"

"See, here come the cronies." The boy sighs. He pointed and Elizabeta followed his finger. Alfred and Vladamir were barreling towards their table, the Golden Trio hot on their trail.

"Elizabeta!" Natalia shouts. "What are you doing over there?!"

"Hey there, sweetheart," Alfred says towards the mystery boy with a hand slamming on the table.

"What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving up to New York?" Alfred inquires tauntingly. The boy's face stays stoic and tight, even as Vlad starts to poke his cheeks.

"My buddy Alfred just asked you–"

Poke. Poke. Poke.

"—a question."

"Hey, Vlad, doesn't this cafeteria have a "no fags allowed" rule?"

"Guys, cut it out." Elizabeta says through clenched teeth. Her hands are balled into fists and she can feel the heat rising in her face. She's so close to screaming them both into alternate dimensions she can barely breathe.

The boy puts up a hand on Elizabeta's shoulder. The hand seems to absorb all of Elizabeta's fury, and she's gushing again over the boy's stupidly pretty face. Elizabeta admires him so much. So calm, clearly a genuinely great guy. In no way an instigator. She could use some balance like that in her life.

"They seem to have an open policy for assholes, though." The boy says, not breaking eye contact with Alfred. There's a monosyllabic 'Oooooh! ' heard from Michelle's direction. The tension only rises.

Okay, he's definitely an instigator. Note to self, Eli. Stop romanticizing strangers.

Alfred huffs. "Hold his arms," he growls. Vlad springs into action and obeys Alfred's order. Elizabeta reels from the swiftness of it, and nearly screeches when Alfred puts his fist up to wail on Mystery Boy.

Elizabeta closes her eyes and prepares for the worst, and hears a lunch tray clattering. She opens her eyes again to see Mystery Boy decking not one, but both guys in the face with his own lunch tray.

Holy shit, Elizabeta thinks.

"Holy shit," Elizabeta says.

Michelle, Natalia, and Bella repeat the same sentiment in unison.

"""Holy shit,"""

A crowd starts to gather around the table, a rather motley crew of scattered students and teachers. "He's so fast!" They're shouting.

But it couldn't be unfolding any slower for Elizabeta. In fact, time seems to still for Elizabeta.

She put a hand to her chest and presses down, pushes the breath she's been holding in her chest out. "Whoa," she barely says.

There's something about the whole ordeal. Elizabeta can't name it exactly, but something's there. The way the boy seemed to be able to wound Vlad so effortlessly, maybe? The satisfying smacking sound that could be nothing less than a lunch-tray-induced-concussion waiting to happen? She can't quite pin it down.

But, oh, how she wants this kid to pin her down, the brute strength exerted in one punch alone is enough to bring Elizabeta to her knees, she's decided.

Sure, Elizabeta hates Alfred and Vlad, but not enough to get hot and bothered from watching them in harm's way. No, this is 100% the guy's fault, Elizabeta's sure of it.

 _Why, when you see boys fight, does it look so horrible, yet…_

Alfred is on the ground, hands over his face. The boy doesn't look like he's even broken a sweat, fists still clenched, a vein by his temple throbbing slightly.

 _…feel SO right?_

 _I shouldn't watch this crap, that's not who I am. But with this kid...daaaaaaaaaaamn._

Something in the kid snaps and he's on top of Vlad, destroying his face with a barrage of sucker punches and loaded blows. Natalia is screaming for the faculty to do something, calling out for Vlad to 'stop being a bitch and kick his ass.' Alfred hasn't even budged since he was knocked down. Michelle is covering her own eyes, and Bella is yelling at Alfred to get up. Most of the teachers have left the cafeteria, claiming more important things to be doing, grading papers and such.

By the third time the boy has pulled back his fist, Elizabeta can see a little bit of blood on his knuckles.

Oh.

That's...nice.

 _Hey, Mister No-Name-Kid. So who might you be? And could you fight for me? And hey…_

Natalia shoves Elizabeta on the back. She drops some of her papers, which she scurries to gather up. "Hey, dipshit!" She yells. "Call off your fucking psychotic attack dog of a boyfriend, maybe?"

Boyfriends with the kid who fucked up Vlad and Alfred. Oh, if only.

Eli, after sufficiently organizing her papers again, gets a bit closer to the scene. "That's enough," she says softly, only enough so she, the guy, and Vlad can hear.

 _Could you face the crowd?_

 _Could you be seen with me and still act proud?_

To Elizabeta's surprise, the kid lets up and turns to face her. Their eyes meet and Eli melts. She can see the wrath seep out of his gaze and turn into respect, adulation even. He stands up and walks slowly up to Elizabeta, close enough for their noses to touch. Eli can feel her face flushing and involuntarily smooths the creases out of her skirt, pushes a strand of hair behind her own ear.

The boy offers his hand to Elizabeta, his bloodied, calloused hand. Fuck, that's hot.

 _Hey,_

 _Would you hold my hand?_

 _And would you carry me through No-Man's-Land?_

Elizabeta takes his hand in her cautiously, feels her heart rate speed up a bit. Vlad is a panting mess on the tiled ground behind them, but Elizabeta can't be bothered. She's holding hands with creepy, drifter guy and she's fucking ecstatic.

 _It's fine if you don't agree,_

 _But I would fight for you,_

 _If you would fight for me._

"Good, you got him, hold onto him!" Natalia barks as she sends Michelle to get the nearest teacher. Elizabeta blinks rapidly and suddenly recalls that, no, she's not floating on some cloud above the world, she's still in shitty New York fucking City, surrounded by the shitheads she's been calling peers for a little over a decade.

Mrs. Kirkland finally appears, approaching the two teens holding hands after sifting through the now shrinking crowd of cowering student. Se takes one look at Mystery Boy and tuts.

"You don't have the space to start fights like this, you know, Mr. Beilschmidt," the faculty member says.

The boy, Beilschmidt, kicks Alfred one more time.

Kirkland grimaces. "...Great" She says, and grabs at the hand not holding Elizabeta's.

She drags Beilschmidt out of the cafeteria with little resistance. Elizabeta swears she sees Beilschmidt's smile only grow, but she herself hasn't felt this sad in a while. She looks down at her hand. The contact was fast, and it's stupid, sure, but it felt fucking nice, like it was meant to be or some shit.

She fades back into reality and hears the clapping around her. Full on applause. Natalia claps a hand on her shoulder and slinks the other around her waist. Elizabeta would redden more if she wasn't already as crimson as the blood on Beilschmidt's knuckles. Michelle simply utters a quick and enthusiastic "yay!," and Bella is pouting.

"Way to distract him. Vlad, Come congratulate Elizabeta. She just saved your damn life."

"That fuckin' spaz fights better than Mohammed.." Vlad coughs out before hacking out a blood-stained tooth.

"..Fuckin' A," Alfred says, finally coming to.

"C'mon, Eli, that was traumatizing as shit. Let's cut class and play croquet. Your place, you said your mom makes good pâté?"

"Yeah, of course," she lied. What the fuck is a pâté, Natalia, shut the entire fuck up, you entitled rich piece of shit.

Elizabeta looks down at the hand that held Beilschmidt's, and then down to the arm around her waist escorting her out of the area. Must be nice, she figures.


End file.
